Rone

Chapter Five

"Not a bad turnout," I said, peering at the people gathered over the rim of my sunglasses. I took a swig of coffee and smiled at Daniel who was looking at the five or six people hanging around on the lawn of the dilapidated Alpha house with a raised eyebrow. I had been expecting more but five was a start.

"Spencer is going to be upset," Daniel murmured. He was surprisingly composed despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before. We both stared as one of the men threw his candy bar wrapped on the lawn of the Alpha's house. The respect was astounding.

"It's early," I said with a one shouldered shrug.

"It's three o'clock," Daniel countered.

I was genuinely surprised by the time. "Late notice," I excused, shrugging with both shoulders now. I pushed my sunglasses back up the bridge of my nose and marched onto the porch of the house, watching for the rotted step.

"Thanks for coming everyone," I called out, "Alpha Rone will be making his address in just a few minutes." One person coughed, another rubbed his eye. The people were hyped and I was starting to think we needed crowd control.

"This is embarrassing," Daniel hissed in my ear, arms folded in front of his body. "There is no way you're going to get Spencer to talk to five people." Daniel faltered and fell silent as one guy walked away. Four.

"Why not?" I asked, "they're his pack members, aren't they? So he didn't get the full turnout? How many members are in this pack anyways? Twenty-five?"

"Fifty-three," Daniel answered bleakly, taking a seat on the porch steps and dropping his head into his hands. I whistled lowly and sat beside him. I couldn't lie—I had at least expected Garrett to come out with his group of loser friends to support.

I finished the rest of my coffee and resisted the urge to throw the cup into the overgrown grass on the Alpha House's front lawn. I had to set an example now, I had to behave. With a sigh I pulled on Daniel's wrist, checking the time on his watch. Rone was late.

"Where is he?" I mumbled, pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head and squinting. I stood and hopped up to the porch, pushing open the creaking screen door and walking into the Alpha house.

It had the bones of a great estate—lovely crown moulding, original hardwood floors, high ceilings that were vaulted and deep dormer windows. The living room hosted both a horrendous amount of dust and a ornate fireplace whilst the kitchen had beautiful copper finishes and rat droppings along the baseboards. With work and love, the house had potential.

I was hoping the same was true for this pack.

"Rone?" I called out. I caught his muffled response and followed it to the cramped powder room. The bathroom was painted a mint green which was a craze in the eighties and an eyesore now. The bathtub was full of rust and grime, the toilet bowl tinted a strange yellow colour, and the sink stained with toothpaste and mold.

I wrinkled my nose at the smell rising from the old pipes. "What the hell are you doing in here?" I asked, turning to look at Rone and feeling my throat close. He had dressed up. Gone were his black t-shirt and jeans and in their place was a button-down shirt and slacks—slacks. I covered my mouth as I giggled.

"What?" he snapped, looking at himself in the mirror and frowning. I realised then that he had been practicing his speech in here—making sure each word was pronounced correctly and every sentence's meaning was clear and concise.

My heart sank for him.

"Are you planning on delivering your speech to the toilet again or are you ready for an audience of living things?" I asked, my eyes drawing over his face. He had shaved too.

"How many people are out there?" Rone asked stiffly, fussing with the buttons and cuffs on his shirt. He cleared his throat and met my eyes through the mirror's reflection. "Did everyone show up?"

I baulked. Yesterday I was useless to him and today he's expecting me to work miracles. "There are more than a couple people out there," I said lightly, pressing my mouth into a smile I hoped appeared to be encouraging.

Rone blew out a long breath and then nodded. "Okay, let's go."

"Great," I beamed, sliding my sunglasses back onto my face and leading the way through the run-down home. Rone followed a few steps behind me, mumbling the beginning portion of his speech over and over again just underneath his breath.

I met Daniel's eyes as I walked out onto the porch, ignoring the panic that widened his gaze. "Good luck," I said to Rone quickly, patting him on the arm before scurrying to Daniel's side and giving him a quick thumb's up.

Rone looked out at the crowd and his face fell, his cheeks lighting up with a deep flush. I watched as his mouth fell open, his fists closed, and then he turned on his heel and walked back into the house, the screen door bouncing on the frame behind him.

"Shit," Daniel murmured, dropping his own head in embarrassment.

My face lit up too, in anger. I marched up the stairs and threw the door open, stomping over to where Rone stood in the front hall. He was undoing the top buttons of his shirt, shaking his head as he grumbled and cursed.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"What are you doing?" Rone fired back. His face was still blazing red, his flush do deep it creeped down his neck and curled to the top of his ears. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"You're doing a fine job yourself," I retorted, "your pack is out there and you just turned away from them! Go back out there and do your damn speech!"

"For three people?" Rone exclaimed.

"Four!" I corrected tersely.

Rone jabbed his finger in the direction of the rough crowd. "Three. One guy has headphones in." I followed the line of his finger and swore to myself. Damn it, he was right. "You said there were a bunch of people outside," Rone complained.

I rolled my eyes. "I said there were more than a couple—and there is."

He started for the back door of the house but I reached out and grabbed his arm, my fingers curling around warm muscle. It let go instantly. "Hey—hey!" I called, jerking him to a stop. He met my eyes reluctantly. "I'm sorry only a few people turned out but it is a start," I said, "do a good job and hopefully they'll spread the word and more people will come next week."

"Three people," Rone muttered to himself, with a shake of his head. "What the hell am I even doing here?" I kept my mouth closed, waiting for him to work through whatever internal dialogue was spinning through his mind.

I softened my voice. "Rone, it's three people who call you Alpha."

He growled and walked past me, gathering himself up as he stood on the porch. I suppressed a smile and slipped around him, slinking back to Daniel's side and feeling smug when I saw the surprise on the Beta's face. Rone cleared his throat and the three people gathered—plus the dude listening to music—looked up to watch the new Alpha.

"Thank you for coming," Rone began, his voice rough. "I'm Alpha Spencer Rone—the, uh, Alpha of this pack. This is the official first public address. My intention is to hold meetings like this weekly where I will provide transparency regarding the leadership team's intentions and goals for the pack. In addition, I intend to open up the floor to the general pack members so that they may pose any questions they have."

A few crickets yawned in the tall grass.

Rone pressed his lips together, his eyes sliding to mine. "I would like to introduce my Beta, Daniel—" Daniel gave a shy wave. "—and my...consultant, Vivian." I gave a brilliant smile and a flourish of my hand.

Rone went on to explain his plan for revisiting the old outposts and safety protocols that were instilled forty years ago and ill maintained by the last Alpha. He droned on and on about investments he planned to make with the pack's mutual fund and then about the returns he expected on those investments. He talked borders, work rotation, income inequality, multifaceted education, healthcare and emergency planning—sounding more like a politician than a pack leader.

My eyes slipped closed sometime into his speech, prompting Daniel to elbow me in the ribs before I snored or toppled over. I gathered my wits just as Rone was wrapping up his electoral platform and brought my hands together in applause. Only Daniel joined in with me.

Rone gave a shaky, unsure smile to the gathered people. "Any questions?"

The crickets sounded again.

"Okay!" I said, jumping up to the porch with Rone. His eyes became guarded as I stood with him in front of the pack on the front steps of the Alpha house. In retrospect, it was a loaded move that was heavy with the acknowledgement of my place as the rightful Luna. "That was informative, right? How nice is it to have an Alpha that keeps you up to date, huh?"

From the looks spanning bewilderment to boredom I was sure everyone standing on that lawn wished their Alpha kept them ignorant to pack business. My throat closed up completely when Rone opened his mouth to talk again.

"I know I'm an outsider to you," Rone admitted roughly, "but I was born in this pack and I remember what it used to be before—before." He drew in a long breath. "My plan is to be better than the glory days."

I could see the emotion rising in Rone's eyes so I clapped my hands together and turned to the people gathered. "Just behind Beta Wong you'll find a red cooler with tallboys and wine coolers," I grinned and wriggled my fingers, "help yourself!"

The guy wearing headphones must've heard my offer of alcohol as he turned off his music and shuffled over to the cooler with the rest of the crowd. When I turned around Rone was gone, the screen door still rattling on the hinges.

I gazed longingly at the cooler but managed to resist as I trudged after Rone. He was in the mangy kitchen, leaning over the counter with his face in his hands. I approached slowly, as though he were a wild animal prone to fleeing—which wasn't too far from the truth.

"You know," I hedged, "it would be helpful to me as your consultant to know the reasons why you left the pack," I said, pausing only to add, "and why you decided to come back."

Rone's head cocked to the side, his indigo eyes catching mine from the side. Dusting off the counter, I perched on top of it and swung out my legs, my black heels slightly out of place in amongst the yellow walls and evening sun.

"As the Alpha of this pack," Rone said, "it would be helpful for me to know where exactly you came from and what your plans are for the future. For security reasons and because people are going to start asking questions about you the more vocal you become."

I held out my hand, "I'll share if you do," I bargained, waiting for him to take the bait.

Rone's eyes lingered on my hand, calculating the pros and cons of my proposal before he slid his fingers into mine and shook. "Deal," he agreed, "but I want to know about you first." Typical Alpha.

I shrugged, taking a strand of my copper hair and twisting it back and forth in the sunlight. "It's cliché stuff for me, I'm afraid," I told him with a self-deprecating smile, "I never knew my father, he and my mother were only mated long enough to have me and then he died." I saw the pity in Rone's eyes and immediately laughed, "so, daddy issues, you know?"

He didn't laugh.

I wriggled uncomfortably. I had told this story countless times, I had spoken it in daylight and whispered it by moonlight. I had shared this piece of myself with countless men, hoping to gain a favour or a fuck. I told it over drinks and under alcohol's influence. Sometimes I just said it to myself so I wouldn't forget.

But for all the times I had told the story, it never felt like the other person was listening.

Rone was listening.

I swallowed.

"So, yeah. I never met my dad and my mom is—was—a real asshole. We fought all the time, she kicked me out, I'd sneak back in. Her boyfriends liked me, she didn't." I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. Rone didn't even blink. "Nothing else, really," I murmured, swinging my leg through the air in circles. "I left when I was sixteen after we fought one night—I just grabbed what I could fit into my school bag. I didn't even think to empty it first so I carried my calculus textbook across three states." I snorted. Rone didn't laugh.

I rubbed the back of my neck as my stomach sank. It was as though I was there again, back in that unhappy home.

"You like that he watches you," she spat from where she was sprawled on the couch, the television light flickering across her face. My mother had one finger pressed to her temple, the rest of her body was coiled with contempt. "You like it don't you?"

"Sure, mom," I said sarcastically, "I love it."

My mother shook her head, sitting up with watering eyes. The television remote tumbled to the floor. "Your disrespect disgusts me," she spat, "I am your mother. I deserve to be respected. You don't know what I've sacrificed for you—what I had to give up because I had to raise you alone."

My cheeks flushed. She had reached my weak spot—I hated feeling like a burden, like my birth was not only a mistake but divine punishment. I sat down on the recliner my grandparents had given us. It still smelled like my grandparent's dead beagle.

"Just watch the TV, mom," I replied, turning my own eyes to the reality show. It was the one where all the guys fight over one girl who constantly wears ballgowns. I envied her—how nice it must feel to be wanted.

I felt my eyes sting and pinched the thin skin at my wrist. I hadn't cried since I was sixteen years old—and I would never cry again. "So, I ditched calculus," I continued, "and the rest of my life and I got as far away as I could from my mother."

"You never went back?" Rone asked. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"No, I did," I admitted, staring at my hands. "When I got back she was dead." I worked my lower jaw until the tension lessoned. "Yeah, she was killed by some guy I guess. I don't know. She didn't really have any friends in the pack, she didn't live on the territory either. No one really had any information to give me. The Alpha didn't even want to pursue my mother's murderer so he called Cerberus and...now it's your turn."

Rone was silent for a long, long while.

"I apologize," he said. Before I could refuse him, he waved me off. "No, I owe you an apology. I judged you before I knew what it was that made you who you are." I bit my lip to stop myself from lashing out petulantly. I was starting to understand how Rone worked. He thought that because I shared a sliver of my story he had enough details to fill in the rest. I didn't bother correcting him.

"Thanks for apologizing," I said dryly, watching my sarcasm go over his head. "Now you have to hold up your side of the bargain," I told him, finding my playful voice again.

Rone nodded formally. "My parents found each other, mated, had me, and then separated."

I waited but he didn't go on.

"Separated?" I repeated, "what do you mean?"

"They were unhappy together so they split up," he explained.

I frowned. "Were they not mates?" I asked. It was uncommon, but sometimes children were born to unmated pairs. Accidents happen.

"No, they were," Rone said, offering little clarification.

For a guy who loved to ramble and lecture, he was quiet now.

"Why did they separate?"

Rone's hesitation told me everything. He was raw too on the inside, just as I was. "My father was an alcoholic," he said lowly, "my mother begged him to stop. Sometimes he was rough with her. When my father didn't quit drinking my mother looked elsewhere."

I raised my eyebrows. His mother was an adulterer.

"Damn," I mumbled. Cheating among mated couples was virtually non-existent.

Rone's face was flushed. "My father was mortified. They separated. He came from a higher ranking family so he got custody of me, granted by the Alpha who wanted us both gone." From that statement it was clear who his mother had looked to for fulfillment. "My father tried his best with me but he was sick and in the end his disease killed him. Liver failure."

"Then what?" I asked.

Rone shrugged. "Alpha Murphy died and I was called. Here we are."

"Here we are," I echoed, meeting his eyes and holding them.

Rone cleared his throat and squinted out of the window, sighing. "I'd better go—I have to relieve Reid for border patrol," Rone said, referring to his massive enforcer. He turned back to me and offered the first smile I had really seen on his face. "I'll see you at the cottage later?"

For some reason, I couldn't find my voice so I just smiled and nodded.

Before Rone could leave the house Reid himself showed up at the back door. "What is it?" Rone asked, not bothering with formalities.

The giant man grumbled. "It's Skinner," Reid announced. "And Katrina."

Rone pushed past Reid and walked across the backyard to the trees that bordered it. I pushed myself off the counter, wobbling slightly on heels, before I hurried after them. The sun had almost set completely, prompting me to lift my sunglasses and pull my leather jacket tighter around my body.

Rone didn't shift as he walked through the woods, nor did he call out for Daniel. Whoever was here, Rone was familiar with them. I jogged slightly to catch up with Reid who watched his Alpha intensely, ready to throw himself in front of Rone if need be. Besides Daniel, Reid was probably the only wolf in this pack who still had that sort of loyalty for his Alpha.

"Who's Skinner?" I asked Reid, my ankle twisting on a bundle of sticks. I had to get hiking boots.

"The Alpha of the nearest territory," Reid answered tensely, "he wants Rone's land to expand his pack's borders." This information didn't surprise me. Rone's pack as it stood was weak and ill-managed. His wolves offered little but the land this pack occupied was worth a lot. Rone's territory encompassed hundreds of miles of protected National Forest that was impervious to human development and exploration. It was a goldmine in a country where there was little natural space left.

"And Katrina?" I inquired.

Reid growled lightly. "Skinner's daughter." From Reid's tone, I deduced that Katrina and I had something in common, the gift of seduction. My stomach tightened as I watched Rone plow through the trees, his face set in a scowl. I kept pace with ease after that.

"Alpha Rone!" a voice boomed out, drawing my attention to a small clearing where a bald man stood next to a small, blonde woman. Our eyes locked immediately, her plump lips turning into a sneer as her eyes raked over my body.

Admittedly, I was hungover and looking a little rough. My hair was a day past needing to be washed, my jeans were the same ones I had worn to the club the night before, and my shirt was wrinkled from being bundled up at the bottom of my bag for weeks. I titled my chin up all the same, not intending to let some blond in straight cut jeans and a collared sweater intimidate me.

"Alpha Skinner," Rone greeted briskly, "I must ask why you are at my border again for the second time this month."

Alpha Skinner grinned broadly, his face stubbled with facial hair contrasted his slick, bald head. "Come now, Rone, we're neighbors."

"And I wanted to see you," Katrina bubbled, her voice high pitchy and cutesy. I narrowed my eyes—so that was her tactic. Katina smiled at Rone, her lips a rosy pink and her blond hair hanging in brushed out waves. "Don't be mat at Daddy because I can't stay away."

I cringed. Daddy.

Rone's disinterest bordered on disgust. "While it is always nice to see you, Katrina, your impromptu visits draw me away from my pack and delay my work. I will ask, as I always do, that you send word next time you wish to visit so I can schedule our meeting and receive you properly."

Her brown eyes twinkled. "Of course, Spencer," she beamed. I cringed again as she used his first name. As far as I knew, only Daniel was on a first name basis with Rone—and never to his face. "I will definitely call ahead, next time."

Katrina had distracted me so thoroughly with her cringe-worthy words that I hadn't noticed the way her father was staring at me. In fact, I'd been so preoccupied with her squeaky, childlike voice that her father's name had gone right over my head. Skinner.

"Vivian McAllister," Skinner called, his small eyes tightening before he glanced down at his daughter and then back to me. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. I titled my head back, fighting off a smug smile and losing the battle.

"Skinner," I purred, slipping back into my seductress skin. "It's been so long."

"Daddy?" Katrina asked, her bubble-gum tipped fingers curling into fists as she let the side of her eyes linger on me. "Who is this?"

"My new consultant," Rone interjected quickly. "I've brought Ms. McAllister here to spur intra-pack relations."

Intra-pack relations, I scoffed to myself. He never ceased to amaze me.

I threw myself forward, jutting out my hand to the petite blonde. I towered over her, my height easily reaching 5'10" in heels. I bent down slightly, my copper hair shining in the setting sunlight. I plastered on my fakest smile and batted my eyes at the girl, eager to show her that I was a threat.

"It's nice to meet you, Katrina," I purred, dropping my voice slightly in the hopes it made her think twice before she feigned her high-pitched whine. "Your father told me so much about you during our rendezvous all those years ago." I slid my eyes over to Skinner and pretended to fight off a naughty smile. "It is so good to finally put a face to your name." I allowed a laugh to bubble to my lips. "Though I had pictured you so much younger." I could tell this comment bothered her despite her clearly being older than myself.

A chuckle caught Reid by surprise as it flew from his mouth.

The next time Katrina spoke her voice wasn't nearly so nasally. "You know my father," she said robotically, as if she were trying to compute the information. "How's that?"

Skinner cleared his throat as I straightened with a lasting smirk. "Hush, darling, the past is the past, yes? Ms. McAllister used to be a ... consultant for Alpha Dane of Cerberus. I dealt with her a few years ago when one of our wolves was caught trying to—well it doesn't matter now."

Katrina's eyes sparked with understanding and then fury. I watched as the blond tried to swallow her outrage, her innocent composure compromised. I wondered what her conversation with Daddy would be like on the way back to their territory.

While Katrina spluttered and tried to avoid spontaneous combustion, I turned on my heel and sauntered over to Rone—swinging my hips to tease Skinner and taunt Katrina. "Spencer and I are working diligently to improve intra-pack relations," I purred, watching Katrina's face contort as I used Rone's first name. I placed my hand on Rone's arm in the hopes she would explode. "We are just so thrilled to have such great neighbors who are clearly willing to offer their support and services." I blinked expectantly at Skinner.

His flush crept up until his entire head was red. "Of—of course. Whatever Alpha Rone needs—we're at his disposal. Come now, Katrina, let us not take up any more of the Alpha's time." I watched as Skinner wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulders, retreating to where he had a small group of enforcers watching. Katrina pushed his arm off of her shoulders as soon as she could.

"What the hell was that?" Rone spat, moving away from me. His eyes cut to Reid who shifted immediately, taking off to patrol the border and leaving me to face Rone's wrath alone. The Alpha shook his head as he planted his hands low on his hips and growled. "Is that truly how you conduct yourself?"

I held up my hands. "Sorry I just secured us an ally whilst getting his daughter to back off—"

"Secured an ally?" Rone repeated, "Skinner is not my ally—he's my competition." He sucked in a quick breath. "Katrina is a nice girl. She is loyal to her pack and father. Whatever mind games you just played on her—she is undeserving of."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please," I lamented, "she wears pink, sparkly lip gloss and cranks her voice up three octaves when she speaks to you. She's not a nice girl," I mocked, "girls like that—"

"You think you're above her?" Rone asked incredulously. I tried not to let his insinuation harm my pride and fought to hold back my dignity from answering, yes!

"I think she's manipulative," I shot back, aware of how hypocritical I was being. I watched Rone's eyebrow shoot up. "At least I'm honest about what I do," I countered, "she pretends to be wholesome and innocent," I said, lifting my own voice high for the effect, "while in reality, she's a cutthroat bitch willing to do anything to help daddy."

Rone's laugh was coarse. "Just like you'd do anything to help Dane?"

I let his question hang between us for a long moment. Rone didn't sway as I pulled out a cigarette and set it between my lips, fixing him with a steady stare. "I'm not proud of what I did when I was with Dane," I said, "but I'm not ashamed either. I did what I had to do. Katrina is privileged. She doesn't have to do anything. She chooses to manipulate people while I adapted to survive."

Rone didn't look convinced—and frankly neither was I. Maybe my reasoning wasn't sound, maybe it wasn't logical, but I wasn't a perfect person and nor were my motivations. Honestly, I just harbored a deep dislike for girls like Katrina who flaunted their innocence in my face because she made me feel cheap and unfeminine and inferior. So maybe my dislike for Katrina was just that—a dislike because she wanted Rone and a part of me believed she was the type of girl he would want. Or maybe I was just in a fucking bad mood because I was hungover.

"Don't call me Spencer," Rone spat out after a long moment spent swallowing the words he really wanted to say.

I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and grinned sarcastically. "How come Katrina can call you Spencer and I can't?" I fired back, "I'm your mate, after all."

From the look on his face, Rone did not appreciate my attempt at humor. I watched him stalk off towards the territory and felt my headache thump. I was going to need a strong shot of something if I was ever going to get this pack to phase two.